looked him full in the face and the impact of that nakedly appealing expression was like a blow. Her emotions were written as clearly in her eyes as if a pen had put them there. Pride warred with need.
“All right. I understand,” she said. “I’m willing, but—”
He raised a brow. “But?”
She looked away. “I have zero fashion sense.”
“I do. Let’s go.” Rising to his feet, he moved around his desk and held out his hand.
She stared at him as if he’d just suggested something illicit. “You’re going to help me pick out clothes?”
Carson smiled. “If you really have zero fashion sense, I’m going to choose the clothing.”
“You’ll tell me what to wear.” Was that a stubborn note in her voice?
“Is that a problem? As I said, appearance is part of the job.”
Beth took a visible breath before nodding. “I’m sorry for hesitating. Being raised by four brothers, I’ve had to argue for the right to do things my way, but you’re right. Appearance is part of the job, and you’re the expert.”
She tilted her chin up and prepared to move toward the door. It was clear that she was a woman with a lot of pride, and he had just asked her to ignore that.
“Beth?” he said gently.
She turned slightly, her hair catching the glint of sunlight, turning it to copper. “Thank you,” he said.
Rather than respond to his gratitude, she looked at her watch, a slight hint of pink in her cheeks. “The meeting is in only two hours? Well, we’d certainly better get going if we’re to get back and have time for you to fill me in on everything I need to know.”
Carson chuckled. “Well, it seems I hired the right person to keep me in check. I tend to be hopelessly late and I have a bad habit of coming and going as I please.”
She rolled her eyes.
“What?” he asked as he walked out the door and led her to his car.
“Coming and going as you please might be considered hopelessly arrogant by some.”
“Yes. But I’m trusting you to get me there on time.”
She laughed, a low, earthy sound that reminded Carson of wine, candlelit bedrooms and sin. He tried not to panic at the images that would only interfere with what he was trying to do for Patrick.
“Here,” he said a few minutes later, opening the door to a boutique that specialized in classic clothing.
Beth walked in the door ahead of Carson. He hadn’t thought of it before, but the place smelled of class, of opulence. She stood there looking uncomfortable and small and pretty and completely out of place.
“Please…fix me up,” she said, her voice husky and thick. “And quickly.”
Her words were practical, but they sounded erotic to Carson’s ears. He ignored his reaction.
Instead he nodded to a salesperson and forced himself to behave like the businessman he was. “I want something chic, smart and businesslike. Not gray or black,” he said, glancing at Beth’s pale skin. “Jade, I think. Or gold. We don’t have much time.” He looked at Beth. “How much?”
She didn’t hesitate. “If we need to allow ourselves time to prepare for the meeting, I think…twenty minutes. Thirty, tops.”
Carson grimaced. He nodded to the salesperson. “Can you do it? We’ll want several changes of clothing, head to toe, inside and out.”
Beth yelped. “My underwear?”
He did his best not to imagine the garments she was referring to. He especially tried not to imagine them sliding against her pale flesh. “If you’re going to act the part of an accomplished and skilled assistant, you have to feel as if you’re used to luxury and privilege, right down to the skin.”
She nodded, but he noticed that her cheeks had gone even paler. The saleswoman scurried off, returning with a mountain of clothing. “We’ll make her irresistible,” she promised.
Carson’s last thought before Beth disappeared into the dressing room was, Oh, no, don’t do that.
He didn’t want to desire her. That would interfere with all his plans, and it would ultimately hurt her. Carson had already hurt too many people, and he did not want to see Beth’s brown eyes fill with pain.
After numerous changes, Beth finally emerged from the dressing room and heard Carson say, “Perfect. That’s the one you’ll wear today.”
She was dressed in a jade suit with a jacket that nipped in at her waist and a skirt that brushed her knees. A rich cream camisole peeked out from the lapels and beneath that she wore bits of ivory satin and lace. It was the most luscious, luxurious clothing she had ever owned, which bothered her. There was now a sense of obligation attached to this business relationship.
And there was something more. Longing. She hated that feeling. Over the years, she’d trained herself not to envy what other girls had. Her brothers had done their best. Neighbors had often donated bags of ill-fitting clothing their children had outgrown, and she’d always known that people judged her by what she was wearing. Pretending she didn’t care had been a badge of honor. Now…Beth glanced down at the skirt that hung just the way a skirt was meant to hang. She felt as if she were playing dress-up. She would eventually have to put the things back in the box and don her old clothes. But for now…she stroked her hand over the silky cloth.
The movement must have caught Carson’s eyes. He glanced at her, and she quickly slipped her hand behind her back, unwilling to let him see her as pathetic or needy or even more untutored than she had admitted to. His gaze never left hers as he told the saleswoman to send the rest of the things he had chosen to the office.
“Ready?” he asked Beth as they left the store.
“Yes.” She followed him out into the sunlight. “Thank you,” she added. “I doubt anyone would have known if you had spent less money.”
He shrugged and smiled. “I would have. This suits you. Think of it as your uniform.”
She liked that. It lessened her sense of obligation. “Thank you for the uniform, then,” she conceded. “It’s much nicer than the red apron I wore over my jeans at the auto parts store. Not as many pockets, but a lot more silk,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “And you were very good at operating within a limited time frame.”
Carson chuckled. “Well, those evil glances you were giving your watch helped.”
She lifted one shoulder in acquiescence and smiled. “What will help with the planning commission?”
“Not sure. I’ve never done this before.”
Beth yelped. “You haven’t? Why not? My landlady said that your family—”
Carson looked grim. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize for asking questions. The Banicks are well-known around here, and people talk. Gossip is not a sin. Yes, my family has been in the luxury hotel business for years. My father, my mother and my brother, that is. I was never interested, but I’m needed now. My job—our job,” he amended, “is to hold the fort, to do our best to bring this hotel on line and to maintain the reputation and the solvency of Banick Enterprises.”
“Is that all?” Beth tried to joke, but there really wasn’t anything amusing about the situation. She clenched her fists, hiding them behind her back.
There was so much riding on her performance, and for a few seconds she considered the fact that she might not have the skills to do this job, after all. In truth, Beth felt as if she were going to hyperventilate. A paper bag would